Rescue
by harllett
Summary: Just as Harry is despairing at being left at Privet Drive for the summer, a motley crew of rescuers arrive... [One-shot]


**Disclaimer** : All characters and places in this chapter belong to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Rating** : PG 13

**Summary** : As Harry enters his sixth year, how will a legacy from his mother alter his life – and love? Will its power enable him to protect those he loves from the powers of Lord Voldemort?

**Author's Note** : Well, I'm writing a HP fic. I said I never would, but there you go.

**WARNING** : This story will contain a character that the majority will no doubt find a Mary Sue. If you don't like that, don't read on and don't flame me. Constructive criticism is welcomed, plain insults are not.

Read on, good sirs, and I hope you enjoy!

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British weather is renowned for its temperamental behaviour and general emphasis on wind and rain. One boy knew this only too well. The window sill that had given Harry Potter a sliver of shade from the fierce sun just one year before was now providing him with meagre shelter from the hammering rain that had sent Little Whinging into a state of chaos.

Hosepipes lay abandoned again, but this time not because of drought – they simply weren't needed. Parched lawns had become fresh and green, but were now sodden and oozing mud. The rain had forced inhabitants of Privet Drive to seek shelter inside their homes. Not a soul was to be seen outside, only murky rainwater swirling down the road.

Harry had been banished from the house for the afternoon, as important clients of Uncle Vernon were soon to arrive for afternoon tea. Considering the disaster that had occurred last time Harry had been present at a business meeting, it was hardly surprising. It was a very special occasion for the Dursleys. Of course, Harry's own special occasion had been completely ignored.

They were arriving now, a couple exactly opposite in appearance to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Mr. Gribbins was as tall and skinny as Uncle Vernon was short and fat, whilst Mrs. Gribbins was as short and fat as Aunt Petunia was tall and bony. Harry caught a quick glimpse of her bulging eyes and pouchy cheeks, reminding him uncomfortably of Professor Umbridge, before her husband opened a garish golfing umbrella and covered her head with it. As they hurried up the path, Harry took in Mr. Gribbins's weak face, large nose, and thin hair which was slightly too long. He looked more like an overgrown twelve year old than his forty years.

As Harry pushed a soaking lock of hair back from his forehead he was hit by an idea. His uncle and aunt had been warned not to treat him badly...but surely leaving him to sit in the pouring rain constituted mistreatment? Grinning, he jumped to his feet. He was going to write to Sirius.

His smile faded as quickly as it had arrived as he remembered. Sirius was gone. Feeling the familiar sensation of a hate, anger and overwhelming sadness building up in his stomach he quickly summoned up a sense of hope. He still had Ron, Hermione, Lupin, the Weasleys, Moody, Tonks. The whole Order. Even though it may seem like telling tales, he had to let them know. He had to get back to Grimmauld Place.

Harry let himself in the backdoor as quietly as possible, then tiptoed across the kitchen, trying his hardest to stop his damp trainers squeaking on the tiled floor. He could hear Mr. Gribbins' nasal laugh as he crept past the door to the living room then up the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky step.

Finally in the sanctuary of his bedroom, Harry flopped down at his desk. Hedwig hopped towards him with a soft hoot and he stroked her absentmindedly as he pulled a piece of parchment towards him. How to phrase it so it didn't sound too much like whining? As he pondered his opening words he gazed unseeingly out of the window –at least until a flash of purple at the end of Privet Drive caught his eye.

Harry stood up, leaning over his desk to the window, and squinted through the glass. Through the heavy rain the blurred outline of a group of people was faintly visible. As they neared, several features became distinct – a shock of purple hair, a dot of bight blue, the _clunk clunk_ of a wooden leg. A smile spread across his face. They had come for him.

He pushed open the window and heard the group of wizards arguing on the doorstep.

"Press the doorbell!" Tonks ordered from the back.

"A doorbell? Is it ecklectic?" Mr. Weasley's unmistakeable voice asked excitedly.

"No, it runs on batteries."

"Batteries!" Mr. Weasley gazed at it fondly.

"Press it then, I'm soaked to the knickers back here!" Tonks hissed.

Moody lifted his hand and used one crooked finger to press the doorbell. He held the button down so it sounded in one long, continuous ring.

"Who on earth is that?" Petunia said downstairs.

"No respect for Sundays! Day of rest, it's supposed to be!" Vernon added pompously. Harry snorted.

He ran downstairs, arriving just in time to see Petunia open the door. And promptly faint onto the doormat.

"Petunia! Petunia, dear!" Vernon knelt at her side.

"'scuse me, 'scuse me!" Tonks pushed past everyone into the hall. Vernon glared at her with great dislike. She caught sight of herself into a gilt-framed mirror and her mouth dropped open in shock. "I look like a drowned Niffler!"

"Coming through." Moody stepped over Petunia's prone body, his wooden leg precariously close to her eye, as Tonks shook herself like a wet dog. Great splashes of cold water sprayed everywhere, the droplets reviving Petunia, who sat up slightly and blinked. "I don't think I've had the – pleasure." Moody peered down at her. As his mismatched eyes came into focus she gave a groan and passed out again.

"Harry, great to see you!" Lupin bypassed the commotion to shake hands with the startled boy. "Are you OK?" he asked softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. Harry nodded, a rush of emotion threatening to shed his tears.

"Wotcher, Harry!" Tonks greeted him. Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded in his quiet manner, Mr. Weasley grinned at him, and Moody commented, "Nice to see you're carrying your wand safely Potter. No missing buttocks I presume?"

"Er, nope, bottom intact!" Harry grinned.

"You – you –" Vernon had finally regained his powers of speech, and was gradually turning purple as he spluttered. "You – here – Privet Drive! We have guests!"

"Oh, _so_ sorry," Tonks replied sarcastically. She turned to look at the Gribbinses, who were peering through the doorway with looks of terror. "Wotcher!"

"We've been looking after the boy, he's written every two days, we – this shouldn't be happening!"

"We got bored of waiting for you to revert back to your former selves," Lupin informed him pleasantly. "We happen to enjoy his company, so would rather he stayed with us now. If that's alright with you, Harry."

"Oh, I'll have to think about that one..." Harry rolled his eyes.

"He's not going anywhere!" Vernon exploded.

"I beg to differ." Lupin's voice was still calm and controlled, and he placed his hands casually on his hips in a seemingly innocent gesture. But Harry noticed with a smile that the action had pushed back his coat, revealing the wand sticking out of his pocket. Vernon noticed it too, as did Petunia, who had come round again – but now flopped back onto the carpet for a third time.

"Well, I suppose – if, you know, it's best – for Harry –" Vernon choked out.

"Then it's settled!" Lupin clapped his hands together. "Now, everyone upstairs..."

"Wait a moment, Remus." Kingsley gestured towards the terrified Gribbinses with his wand. "Memory modifying charms?"

"No, leave them," Tonks grinned. "It'll do these Dursleys good, having people know who they have under their roof...that they harbour that dirty word, _magic_..."

"Now look here – you just look here!" Vernon was almost apoplectic with rage.

"Look at what?" Tonks inquired pleasantly. "The way your face currently resembles a tomato?"

"Now Tonks...behave! Take it away, King."

"_Obliviate_!" His deep voice reverberated around the hallway. The Gribbinses immediately took on vacant, dreamy expressions.

"Wonderful. We'll be seeing you in June, Mr. Dursley." Lupin ushered everyone upstairs where they crowded into Harry's bedroom, leaving Vernon mouthing wordlessly at the bottom of the stairs.

Kingsley waved his wand, sending all Harry's belongings flying into his trunk where they arranged themselves neatly, then picked it up. Tonks put Hedwig in her cage, lifted it, and the two Apparated.

"Are you surprised, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked, beaming.

"Shocked!" he replied. "I thought I was going to be stuck here the whole summer."

"Such little faith, Harry!" Lupin picked up his bedside lamp. "This will do..." Pointing his wand at it he muttered, "Portus!" The lamp glowed blue. "Everyone touch it, come on..." The four remaining wizards all took hold of the lamp. "Three...two...one..."

Harry felt a familiar jerk behind his navel. He was pulled forwards, spinning in a whirl of colour, until he slammed into the ground on all fours. Straightening up, he smacked his head on the underside of a table, and rubbed the sore spot as he pulled himself out. He was standing in the kitchen at number 12 Grimmauld Place, with faces beaming at him from all sides. Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, Kingsley, Ron, Hermione, Bill, Charlie, Ginny, Moody, Mr. Weasley, Lupin.

Mrs. Weasley was at the stove, stirring a simmering pot. She crossed the kitchen and wrapped him up in a huge hug, before drawing back and planting a kiss on his forehead. "Happy birthday, Harry dear."

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**A/N** : Reviewers get virtual Chocolate Frogs!


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